


Rash

by SLWalker



Series: Taking Flight [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Disasters in Babysitting, Gen, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 10:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13029462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: When a minor medical emergency sends Master Vrik to the Halls of Healing, Maul's left in charge of Archix Clan.





	Rash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowmaat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaat/gifts).



Maul stared at the children.

The children stared back.

Master Vrik was undoubtedly in the Halls of Healing by now; one moment, the rash he had gotten from the new fingerpaints covered the back of his hand, and only half a minute later, had spread with truly grotesque speed to the rest of his body. An emergency team of healers came and got him, and Maul was left with the rest of the shaken up clan.

Suddenly, there was sound.

“Is he gonna _die??_ ” “Did you see how fast he turned yellow?” “Can I have a hug?” “I don’t want him to die!!” “What if the rest of us catch it?!” “That was so neat!” “But what if he _dies?_ ” “Can you call and see if he’s okay?” “I think it was just the yellow paint.” “What if it’s all the paints?” “Please can I have a hug?”

Babble gave way to sniffles in some cases and hushed nervous whispers in others, and somehow before five minutes had passed, Maul was covered in children and had folded yet more of them into his wings and was soothing mindlessly even while he tried to figure out what he was going to do with so many children until relief arrived.

Well, first perhaps they could clean up the paint.

 

 

 

Cleaning up the paint had been a _bad idea_.

While Archix Clan respected Maul, he didn’t have the necessary authority to coordinate all of them without Master Vrik’s help. Until now, Maul had never realized just how well the seemingly absent-minded master handled this many children.

He stood staring at the children again. They were covered in paint. First they had been cleaning, but then Molly had fallen and gotten paint on Shad, and Shad had thrown paint back at her, but instead hit Fan, and Fan screamed and then it became a free-for-all, liberally interspersed with children panicking that they had caught what Master Vrik had caught and were going to _die_.

The children stared back. Maul was _also_ covered in paint. If he’d been colorful before, that had nothing on what he was now.

After a moment, standing in the midst of the disaster, he blinked once. “–how about swimming?”

 

 

 

Swimming was a slightly better idea.

Maul was going to be on (extra) punishment detail for a week, likely, because the pool wasn’t meant to process even non-toxic paint, but he figured that was a much easier thing than trying to coordinate a proper bathtime.

Once the children had gotten done splashing, only occasionally pausing for reassurance that Master Vrik wasn’t going to die, Maul had managed to get them all rounded up again and dried off and back to their own rooms. He checked in with the Halls of Healing and got word that Master Vrik was not dead, relayed that to the children and then spent another twenty minutes trying to explain that he didn’t know any more than that.

He largely failed and then he came up with another idea.

“We can look up information on rashes on the HoloNet,” he decided.

 

 

 

That– was the worst idea Maul had ever had.

Ever.

He had never realized that such graphic images could come up so quickly. Or that there weren’t measures in the creche to keep them from loading in front of children. He had thought he could show them how harmless rashes usually turned out to be, but–

In fairness, half of the children – including Issa – were morbidly fascinated. But the other half were duly traumatized. Now, it seemed certain that Master Vrik and _everyone in the Temple_ was going to _die_.

Maul panicked. He called the cafeteria and ordered iced sweets. Lots and lots of iced sweets.

 

 

 

That was not the worst idea Maul ever had. But it wasn’t the best, either.

“My belly hurts,” Issa complained, crawling into his arms. In various stages of sprawled, a bunch of sticky children, with sweets clinging to fur or flesh, echoed her sentiment.

“Are you going to throw up?” Maul asked.

That turned out to be the second worst idea Maul ever had, because as if he had invited it by asking, it came true on one account, which became several more, and all the while Zip was moaning, “I’m gonna _die_.”

 

 

 

By the time it was over, Maul was trembling. Some combination of stress and exhaustion. The children were newly clean, newly settled and mercifully in bed, and the rest of the rooms had been cleaned between their actual baths and their bedtime. He had read them a long story, picking out the most happy, boring one he could find access to on the Temple’s network, and when the last of them fell asleep, he stumbled out of their sleeping room.

Master Jinn was there, standing beside a still-yellow-but-clearly-recovering Master Vrik.

Maul stared at them, feathers shivering, still streaked with an assortment of paint, sugar and thankfully not any vomit. He blinked. “I will never underestimate your skills again,” he said, sincerely, to Master Vrik. “No one _died_.”

That inflection undoubtedly belonged to Archix Clan.

Vrik– beamed, or at least seemed to beam, eyes pivoting to take in the newly cleaned room. “Very good, very good. Dead crechelings would be quite terrible to deal with, yes. Master Qui-Gon, thank you for sending Maul to help us, he’s been wonderful with the younglings.”

“Somehow, I’m not terribly surprised.” Master Jinn’s voice was warm and just a little bit amused.

“Though, I think you should probably take him home, poor thing.”

Maul nodded, shivering briefly harder. “Yes, please.”

Master Jinn nodded back. “I think that’s more than served your punishment. Though I hope you’ll come back of your own accord, given how dearly they think of you.”

The thought of coming back right now was almost more than Maul could take, but he nodded numbly, and then followed Master Jinn out with a likewise numb wave to Master Vrik. He tried to figure out how to explain that he had been _disastrous_ in the role of crechemaster, but even talking right now was more than he felt capable of.

For that matter, walking was proving to be quite a chore.

That was probably how he ended up being picked up halfway back, too beat to protest or feel anything other than vague confusion, and how he ended up dead asleep in Master Jinn’s arms by the time they made it through the doorway, as well.


End file.
